


A Cookie for a Thought

by Othalla



Category: Naruto
Genre: A Fact Sasuke Doesn't Know, Awkward Boners, BAMF Yamanaka Ino, But Definitely Suffers From, Confused Nara Shikamaru, Crushes, Everyone is Bad at Romance, Except Ino, Failboats In Love, Gen, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mocking, No Mpreg Intended, Oblivious Uchiha Sasuke, Oblivious Uzumaki Naruto, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Ridiculous, Rumors, Sarcasm, Sasuke is Shikamaru's Nemesis, Snark, Theft of ANBU Property, Yoshino is the Best Mom Ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Othalla/pseuds/Othalla
Summary: Shikamaru is in love with Naruto. It's, uh, not going great.





	A Cookie for a Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone should praise the all-mighty beta, bc [the_rck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck) did an amazing job in saving me from lots of grammar mistakes and their extensive notes led to lots of editing, and this fic is all the better for it! :D
> 
> Also, expect no more fic from me until late February when the [chocobox collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ChocolateBox2018) is revealed. Hopefully there'll be lots of fics, then, as I plan on treating lots of things :P

Shikamaru likes Naruto, and Naruto likes Sasuke, so of course the only reasonable thing Shikamaru can do is hate Sasuke, because that's how crushes work.

“That's definitely not how crushes work,” Ino says with zero sympathy, looking at him like he’s a particularly depressing piece of old cheese. He glares at her, but she just glares back, biting down threateningly on a cookie. It makes a loud crunchy noise. No crumbs fall to the floor because she’s obviously not human enough for messy eating.

It’s a power move, pure and simple.

Shikamaru sinks further down in his armchair, grumbling under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.” It’s not like Ino has a leg to stand on. Shikamaru recalls, in _great detail_ , all the shit she and Sakura used to complain about back when they were madly in love with Sasuke and hated him paying attention to practically anyone. Everyone and their mother was a potential threat to Sasuke’s so-called virtue. Naruto, unfortunately, was the worst off, as he’d early on fashioned himself Sasuke’s greatest rival. Of course, Ino and Sakura could not let that stand, and the events that followed became (loudly and violently) a part of the Academy’s history.

This is not to say that Shikamaru himself was or is any fonder of the Dick’s relationship with Naruto. But still. The point stands.

Ino is a hypocrite.

As if reading his mind, something that’s not completely out of the realm of possibilities given that Ino is a scarily capable Yamanaka and can probably read people’s mind in her sleep, Ino looks at him coolly over her steaming cup of tea. “That’s definitely not how crushes work _outside of the Academy_. Was I mistaken in thinking you had graduated? Gods, you’re twenty-two, you should know better than this,” she says, her voice mocking and her eyes daring him to protest.

Shikamaru, because he’s not quite as stupid as Temari would have you believe, doesn’t protest. “Whatever,” he says, instead, and tries to fuse with his armchair. It’s soft and comfortable (unlike most people he knows). Shikamaru loves it, even though the fabric is a bright orange and yellow paisley mix that’s really rather horribly tacky, because it’s old and broken in and fits Shikamaru’s butt perfectly. Stealing it from ANBU’s headquarters is the best decision he’s ever made, for more reasons than it just being incredibly comfortable. He conceals a smirk.

Rumour has it that Sasuke considered it his favourite armchair, too, and has not handled its disappearance well. Apparently, he threatened the supply guy for information. Which wasn’t very smart of him, because while the different support ninjas generally do not have a problem snitching in an effort to promote general havoc, they aren’t very fond of being threatened. Like, at all. So, the chair is safe for now, even though Shikamaru hasn’t done a thing to actually hide it, and Sasuke gets the hell chair from interrogation as his desk chair.

Shikamaru can live with him and the Dick having the same taste in furniture (and, possibly, shape of butt) if it means causing the _famous last Uchiha_ pain. It’s a fair exchange.

Spite is undervalued as a coping mechanism, he thinks.

Ino kicks him in the shin. “God, stop being pathetic for one second. You’re ruining my good mood.”

“You broke into my home,” Shikamaru reminds her, rubbing at his bruised leg. A bump is already forming, and it’s radiating pain to the rest of his body with the beating of his pulse. Why must everyone he knows be so violent? He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve this. “I can ruin any mood I want. Trespassers have no legal protection anywhere, and you _broke into my home_.”

Ino shrugs without a shred of regret, because she’s an evil person and doesn’t have a conscience. “Your mom made you cookies. What else was I supposed to do?”

Shikamaru’s face does a funny thing he doesn’t consider deeply. “How do you even know that?” He’s not whining. _No, sir_. Though seriously, how does she even know that? Shikamaru hadn’t told her; that’s for sure. He _knows_ how much Ino likes his mom’s cookies. They’re great for bribery purposes, but on the flip side of that coin, they also pose too much of a temptation for her to be able to control herself. Ino breaks into his home often enough as it is. Shikamaru really doesn’t need, or want, to entice her into doing it more _often_.

Speaking of that, he really needs to get some better locks. These are clearly failing him.

“She told me,” Ino says, like it’s obvious, and of course his mom did. _Of course_.

He narrows his eyes at the cookie basket, trying to spot the recording device. None is apparent, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. After all the cookies are eaten (so, in approximately ten minutes, based on the speed at which Ino is inhaling them), he’ll set the basket on fire, dump the ashes in his cranky old neighbour’s trash can, and then pretend that none of this ever happened.

He should have known his mom wouldn’t just hand him cookies without an ulterior motive. She thinks he has too few friends, which is plainly untrue, and that he has no manners, which is very true. So, this is precisely the sort of thing she would do to rectify both those situations: giving him cookies and telling Ino so that she will ambush him during his midday nap and nag him to death.

His mother knows him too well, unfortunately. She’s also too good a baker for Shikamaru’s frayed nerves.

He sends a brief prayer heavenwards, hoping that Ino’s the only one she told and that he won’t have half of Konoha banging on his door in a moment.

“I hate all of you,” Shikamaru says to no one at all. Just to put it out there. Then, because he can’t help himself and Sasuke is the dickiest dick to ever be a dick in Konoha, he adds, “But mostly Sasuke.”

Ino snorts. “Yeah, that’s not news to anyone, honey.”

He would be offended; he’s a very sneaky person thank you very much. He doesn’t deserve that kind of condescension. He _doesn’t._ But then again, just yesterday, he convinced the green chunin manning the mission desk to send Sasuke out on a bogus mission that ended with Konohamaru gleefully spreading photos of a sullen, cow manure covered Sasuke all around the ninja administration building. And the hallways of the public bath houses. He also put up a poster in the grand auditorium in the Academy. Something about knowing all of Konoha’s next generation of ninja have seen it, makes a warm and fuzzy feeling blossom in his stomach.

Konohamaru might possibly be Shikamaru’s most favourite person ever. Apart from Naruto. Mainly because they both love Naruto with every fibre of their being and hate Sasuke an equal amount. Also a little bit because Konohamaru is a gullible, gullible man, with too much energy for any reasonable person, and Shikamaru has no qualms about taking advantage of him. And also, because, with Konohamaru on his team, the labour of retrieving food and coffee is a thing of the past.

Because she has a bachelor’s degree in ruining daydreams, Ino interrupts his happy thoughts by kicking him. Again. On the same leg, right atop the bump she made minutes ago.

“I hate you,” Shikamaru says, and his eyes well over reflexively. He brushes away the stray tears with the back of his hand. “You’re second only to Sasuke, and so _mean_ I wonder why Ibiki hasn’t recruited you already.”

“Stop being a cry-baby, I didn’t kick you that hard,” she scoffs. Then she smiles. The corners of her mouth lift conspiratorially, and she twirls a long blonde lock of hair around her fingers, trying to look innocent while plotting something nefarious. She looks dangerously smug. A smug Ino is not a chill Ino and minds are likely to explode at any time. Which is obviously _bad_. “And who’s to say he hasn’t?”

Shikamaru blinks at her, for a moment wholly thrown. They have a _deal_. A deal where Shikamaru gets to pretend that Ino isn’t actually the scariest person in the village, and that she doesn’t, in fact, know _all_ his secrets instead of only most of them. It’s a terrific deal. Shikamaru loves this deal. So, really, _nope_ for _all_ of this.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, because you definitely wouldn’t tell me if it was actually true. That’s secret agenting 101,” Shikamaru says after a few long moments spent in complete silence. It’s the only reasonable thing to do to regain the status quo.

Ino shrugs, like she couldn’t care less, but Shikamaru can just smell the satisfaction she gets from needling him wafting off her. “Whatever floats your boat, cry-baby.”

Scary, scary woman.

“Moving on,” he says in a loud voice, attempting to block out anything else she might add to make this conversation more horrible for him. Then, because he hasn’t actually thought ahead, he scrambles for a topic.

Since he really is pathetic, all that flashes across his mind is Naruto the day before yesterday, sans shirt and with sweat pebbling on his forehead and down his neck. A sweaty Naruto _gleams_ in the sun, and it’s an impossibly attractive look on him. A sweaty Naruto _under a waterfall_ is the best worst thing Shikamaru’s ever experienced, and he’s going to remember it until the day he dies.

Ino coughs, and Shikamaru abruptly returns to the present. He tugs at the neckline of his shirt and swallows uncomfortably. He tries not to shift in his seat, but, yeah, it doesn’t work out too well for him. “I need help,” he finally admits, fighting hard not to blush and failing completely.

God, he _is_ pathetic.

Ino raises an eyebrow, very unimpressed. “In so many ways, man. How many times do I have to tell you to stop getting erections in my presence?” She pointedly looks at his groin.

Even though there’s a table in the way, and Ino doesn’t have x-ray vision, his dick twitches in shame from being caught in the act.

Shikamaru closes his eyes and tries to centre himself. He draws in a deep breath, counts to seven, and exhales slowly. When he thinks he can speak without returning to the teenage hell voice box experience, he gets down to the real business, the main thing that’s making him a little extra prickly and more willing to face Tsunade’s wrath for bullying her chunins in order to ruin Sasuke’s day. “It has come to my attention that Naruto thinks I have a girlfriend.”

“Wait, what?” Ino blinks at him like he’s grown a second head. “But you have no game! How could he ever think you have a girlfriend?” Ino says it like it’s a personal offense, and Shikamaru considers emptying his cup of tea on her head. She’d deserve it. It’s lukewarm at this point, so it’s not like it would burn her.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” he says instead. Sometimes, a person has to deal with being mocked in order to receive help. Ino’s creepily good with the... squishy people stuff. Shikamaru’s barely better than Sai.

Ino waves him off dismissively. “You’re welcome.”

Shikamaru tries to remember he needs her help, he tries _really hard_. It’s commendable.

 “But your manly ego isn’t important right now. Tell me _everything_.” Her eyes are gleaming, and she leans over the table with her elbows planted firmly on its surface. She’s ready to pounce, not unlike a predator smelling juicy prey, and her nostrils flare.

It’s been a slow week in Konoha for scandalous rumours and confirmed gossip. Shikamaru can almost sympathize with her eagerness. Also, it works in his favour, so he can probably live with the consequences.

Maybe, at least.

“Apparently, I’m in a committed relationship with Temari.” Of all the people he knows, of course, it has to be Temari. If she ever finds out (and Shikamaru has no doubts she will because he’s right here telling _Ino_ about it) she’s going to either kill him violently or wholly go to town with it and kill whatever cool guy reputation Shikamaru has achieved to this point. Both outcomes could be equally terrible, but he probably prefers the first one. A quick death beats a slow one. “She’s also, as I hear, pregnant, and Naruto has promised to knit onesies for our children. I didn’t even know he could knit.”

Not knowing Naruto could knit is obviously a terrible gap of intelligence, because the image of Naruto knitting is _adorable_ and Shikamaru would possibly die should he witness it.

Ino guffaws in delight. “Seriously?”

The cookies lie forgotten in their basket, and Shikamaru metaphorically turns his nose up at them. Like _there_ , mom, he doesn’t need any cookies to entice his friends. He just needs to be pathetic. As a well-adjusted adult, being pathetic is something he can accomplish all on his own, without his mother’s help.

Ino coughs and tries to play it cool. “I mean, however did he get that idea?”

Shikamaru crosses his arms and mentally tries to kill a man. “Because Sasuke told him so,” he grouches.

Ino raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Sasuke did? The same Sasuke who runs from the room the moment you bring up so much as holding hands? That makes no sense. For _many_ reasons.”

Shikamaru sinks deeper into his armchair, grumbling under his breath.

Ino certainly has grounds for her doubts, as Sasuke and romance of any kind don’t go hand in hand. Somehow, he manages to straddle the line between being blind as a bat, and as skittish and likely to jump in fright of his own shadow as a horse. It’s ridiculous. In one moment he misinterprets Kiba’s suggesting they have sex with Kiba threatening to assassinate him (which is, honestly, kind of amazing, considering Kiba can’t be subtle for the life of him), and in the next he thinks Hinata telling him off for mistreating genin is her proposing they marry and merge their clans.

To be honest, Shikamaru isn’t sure that Sasuke knowns how the whole _repopulating his clan_ bit is supposed to work. Like, logistically. Of course, it’s not like there has to be bodily interactions involved, but still. Shikamaru’s not to sure that Sasuke knows he has to _ask_ for people to get onboard the artificial insemination train. Maybe he's expecting storks?

Shikamaru catches Ino staring at him impatiently in the corner of his eye, and oh. Right.

Shikamaru sighs. “Fine, so he didn’t say it like _Shikamaru and Temari are dating and having kids_. More like: _I saw the smartest man I know walking innocently and very friendly-like beside that one Suna sibling with the anger issues, and I’m telling you this because I have no personality of my own and have literally nothing better to say_.” Shikamaru pauses to take a deep breath. “Paraphrased, I mean.”

Ino laughs at him. “ _Paraphrased_ , gotcha.” She frowns. “Still, that doesn’t quite set up the leap toward expecting girlfriends and knitting onesies.”

Which is true enough. And, while Shikamaru would like to be able to lay all the blame for this situation on one particular member of an almost extinct clan’s shoulders, it wouldn’t (and Shikamaru’s _very_ reluctant to say this) be quite fair.

Shikamaru is in love with a somewhat obtuse man, and, sometimes, that man’s conclusions are… less than accurate. He’s a little naive, is all. Which is generally fine, because Shikamaru is very much not, and so obviously they’re fated to be together. Sometimes, though, that naive and obtuse part is a bit of an obstacle. Case in point being this entire conversation.

“Naruto thinks I’ve been dating Temari since the chunin exam.”

Ino blinks. “Chunin exam? We have those every –“ She abruptly stops talking, her mouth wide in astonishment. For a moment, Shikamaru gets to observe Ino gobsmacked and unable to summon words. It’s truly novel. He should probably take a picture as evidence for later when no one believes him.

“He thinks you’ve been dating Temari since _our_ chunin exam? That one chunin exam when snakey snake man Orochimaru felt like being extra creepy and leave hickeys on kids?” she finally blurts out, after the silence has stretched out for too long.

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“But that was ages ago!”

“Yep.”

Ino keeps staring, wide-eyed, into the distance. Then, she takes a cookie, probably to buy herself time to collect herself. “No offense, man. I love you and all, but - you have no taste. _No taste_. Your babies are going to be the dumbest Naras in generations.”

“Full offense, but sure.” He takes a cookie, too, and they spend a companionable moment simply eating. The cookies have saffron in them. He’s been craving some saffron cookies for a while.

His mother might be overbearing, but Shikamaru has to admit she has skills.

“But anyway, Naruto thinks we’re dating. Sasuke told him that he saw me and Temari out walking together. Add that to Naruto hearing Lee running around the village shouting congratulations and well wishes to the next generation of Suna nins… “ Shikamaru starts to throw up his hands but stops to make a face because the world is terrible. “That happened.”

To be quite honest, he’s not sure exactly what Lee was shouting about. He’d heard him, sure. Everyone within the village had. But no reasonable explanation springs to mind to clarify what Lee _meant_ by it.

“So, basically Sasuke is the one least at fault for this.” She looks at him with hard eyes. “Because that is what I’m hearing, my dude.”

On principle alone, Shikamaru doesn’t deign to answer.

“God, you’re pathetic. You know that, right?”

He nods amiably. “I do know that. Please help me?” Shikamaru would very much like it if the boy he has a crush on doesn’t think Shikamaru’s about to get married and have kids with Temari. It’s very counterproductive. Shikamaru has spent way more time than he’s willing to admit planning his and Naruto’s wedding, after all, and is quite committed to the wedding and the plans both at this point. He’s had some good ideas, if he does say so himself.

Now, if Naruto actually could actually start noticing when Shikamaru tries to flirt with him, that’d be great.

Ino pats him on the shoulder, very much not consolingly. “There, there, cry-baby. Auntie Ino will fix this in no time.” She makes a face and rewords her promise. “In some time. I’m not a miracle worker.”

She’s also, Shikamaru thinks in the hopefully non-communal space of his own mind, not a saint.

“You’ll also owe me tons of cookies.” Ino grabs another one from the basket to make her point.

“Fine.” Shikamaru sighs, leans back in his armchair, and closes his eyes in the face of the exhausting thought of asking his mother to bake. Of course, it’s better than trying to bake himself, because baking means making dough, and waiting for the dough to turn crisp and golden, _and_ doing lots of dishes, and, yeah. Shikamaru would rather sleep than doing any of that. So, asking his mother to bake it is.

Thinking about it, Shikamaru should just confess to the cookies being wanted for romance purposes. If he knows his mother (and he definitely does, she’s very memorable as a person) it’s definitely the sort of thing she’d be behind. Probably vocally.

Shikamaru snorts, and then covers it up with a subtle cough as Ino stares at him weirdly.

Maybe someone being _vocal_ is what just he needs, because subtle hasn’t gotten him anywhere.


End file.
